The Red Dragon
by In caverns dark
Summary: A story about what may happen if you change one, seemingly minor point in an episode, and of how Merlin chooses to deal with the challenges that are dealt to him.
1. Chapter 1

**The Red Dragon**

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><p><em>The men of the East are decked in steel,<br>They march with a trumpet's din,  
>They glitter with silks and golden scales,<br>And high kings boast their kin-  
>We of the West wear the hides of wolves,<br>But our hearts are steel within._

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><p>He was on the ground, cloaked by a blanket woven in with grass as to conceal him from the sight of others. He looked through his sharp eyes at the sentries standing watch atop the guard towers, moving slowly; waiting until he was certain no one was looking he moved one foot forward, he had been doing this all day. He would sometimes move two feet if he was convinced that he would remain unnoticed. It was long, tedious work, but he did not wish to risk his approach to the walls go noticed.<p>

"Blessed are the silent," he whispered "for they shall tend to our ashes as if sand from the riverbank,"

He took another step forward as an opening in the guard rotation was made.

"Blessed are those of flesh," he continued, reciting the verse for what seemed the twentieth time today "for through their burdens the flames of our spirits blaze like the sun,"

He crawled forward once more, trying his best to tune out the roars of the army behind the walls, today it was said an execution was planned, to celebrate a great victory that this kingdom had earned.

Barbarians. Their army and figureheads all gathered in one place.

"Blessed are the dark, for they are the anvil upon which we hammer our fury into a mighty blade,"

There! An opening, he dashed close to the wall. To a point where he was certain he would remain unspotted from the regular patrols.

He knew that he had to be careful, as he was acting in service to his king, and to his kin. On this most important of days, when the debts of the past would be repaid.

"Blessed are the Dragonlords," he whispered as he lifted out a pebble from out of his pocket and threw it up onto the wall "for they serve without self, sacrificed on the altar of faith and blood".

He waited for the guards to appear to investigate the sound "Blessed are the Dragonlords" he repeated as the clunk clunk clunk of armour grew louder, "for they serve without self," he pictured the stone in his mind's eye, feeling his spirit connect with itself. "sacrificed on the altar of faith and blood."

The guards looked over the edge, two became one, and in an instant he appeared behind them and pushed them over. They were so surprised that it was amusing. So surprised, they couldn't even suck in the air to scream.

He tossed the rock down again, and suddenly found himself beside the bodies of the guards, and dragged them both to a position outside the walls where they would not be seen as he changed into their armour.

As he changed he reminded himself of his mission, this kingdom had been a part of the purge that had left countless innocent dead in its wake and he was doing little more than delivering justice. When he had changed he picked the pebble from the ground, and placed it carefully in his pocket. The town had been fortified because this was a day of celebration and all the kingdoms nobels as well as the majority of its army had assembled here. So should any foe make it close enough in this one day to deliver a swift blow, justice for the countless innocent dead would be served. So with this knowledge in mind he walked to the gates, stabbing the gate guards in their necks so they couldn't scream to alert anyone inside the town of his presence and threw their bodies into the moat.

As the man walked up the stairs onto the battlements on the walls he looked into his memories and saw his home, burning. He looked to the city as he killed the guards on watch one by one and dreamt that it was covered under the same blanket of death.

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><p><em>Three days ago<em>

Queen Annis of Caerleon sat on her throne looking down at the King of Camelot and his servant and pondered what course of action she would take now. Her husband was dead and she was without an heir, her kingdom was already on the decline from Northmen attacks, Gaelic raiders and numerous attempts at territory from Camelot. Yet here, the murderer of her husband was ready to allow her to reclaim a vast amount of land in a challenge of champions, as opposed to marching into a battle that even she in her grief knew was lost from the beginning. She would accept of course, but would not make the fools mistake of allowing her foes to see her glee. What's more the King's servant had chosen now of all times to show up, the servant who she had heard and now seen had formed a tight bond with the King.

"Very well Arthur, I shall accept your challenge to single combat between champions." She said firmly, than smirked before she continued, "however your servant stays here. He is my prisoner."

The shock on the two was noticeable to all assembled in the tent, "B-but your highness!" Arthur spluttered. "He's just a servant, he's-"

"Enough." The Queen roared, effectively silencing the two. "Those are my terms for your request King Arthur. Accept that your servant is mine, or our armies shall face one another on the field of battle tomorrow." She said firmly. Knowing exactly what the King's answer would be.

Arthur turned to look at Merlin, his face filled with an expression of disbelief, anger and anguish. When Merlin looked back with a look of understanding he turned towards the Queen of Caerleon and uttered the words "I accept".

The two regents laid out the time and terms of the battle before a crestfallen Arthur was unceremoniously led out of the camp. So besides the few remaining guards, all who were left inside the tent as the howling of the wind roared outside like wraiths ready to steal the warmth of your soul was the Queen and the servant.

She looked at him and smiled, congratulating herself on her strategic victory, whilst thanking whatever god had guided the boy into her lap. Here was a suitable outlet for her vengeance should her champion lose tomorrow. A way to ensure that, regardless the outcome Arthur would lose something, whilst she only stood to gain. The King would either lose a friend or half his kingdom, a small price in comparison to that of a husband, but this was a gift sent down from the heavens to which she would not complain. She ordered her guards to take Merlin to the cages besides those of the wild animals and wondered if she truly needed the aid of the witch any longer.

She concluded that she would, the prospect of that murderer's head on a pike was too good an opportunity to pass.

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><p>Merlin was trapped in a cage, bound at the edges of the camp like an animal, weak, lying on the dirt unconscious, <em>vulnerable<em>. Morgana looked onto the scene before her with a satisfaction that she had not felt in a long time. Ever since her attempt at Camelot by her sisters side had failed she hadn't felt _true_ happiness, but this sight seemed to allow her to step in the right direction. She recalled how even Uther's death hadn't made her this giddy, and even if this was just a servant boy, the sight of her foe caged like the beast he was sent a shiver of excitement down her spine.

She steadied her breathing as she decided that letting this opportunity go to waste would be a foolish idea. She readied her magic, calling the familiar strands of energy and allowed it to fill her body. The teachings of the high priestess given to her by her late sister illuminating every dark shadow of her mind. Her eyes burning with flakes of gold as she prepared to avenge her sister whose, death was aided by this pest of a servant.

She would play with the boy, nothing physical or noticeable, of course. The boy belonged to the Queen, and whilst slavery wasn't encouraged it wasn't hindered for the majority of kingdoms outside Camalot, if anything it was seen as preferable to the life of a freeman with the comforts it offered. Morgana didn't know what Annis intended for the boy and didn't want to also risk angering any of Caerleon further, as despite their recent leniency to magic due to their recently deceased Saxon King, the Queen held loyalties to the old order that had joined in with Uther's purge.

So Morgana chose to restrain herself, for when she would become Queen of Camalot bad relations with her neighbours was the last thing she wished for. But still, that didn't mean she could have a little fun, and with the arcane power at her command fun was what she intended to have.

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><p><em>Two days ago<em>

The two armies stood at opposing ends, the Knights and soldiers of Camelot atop a cliff where they had the advantage of height, and Caerleon in the valley below where they could better use their cavalry. In between them Arthur the King of Camelot and Ulfric the Strong of Caerleon stood ready to do battle. Arthur looked to the far edge and saw the Queen, flanked by a person wrapped in a dark cloak on one side and Merlin who looked as if he could topple to the ground at any moment on the other.

_What's Arthur doing there? _Merlin wondered as he saw the King in the distance through bleary eyes.

The two combatants readied their swords and began to fight, steel against steel, might against might, Ulfric using strong powerful blows whilst Arthur tried to use his speed to get away from the giant of a man until an opening presented itself.

_Why are they dancing, I didn't know Arthur liked strong men. I guess it'd explain why he surrounds himself with big strong knights._

Strike, strike. Dodge, dodge_._

_They're really dancing... in a field... with everyone watching. Is this my nightmare, or Arthur's. _

_God, I hope this is beer and not a dream... or a vision. Please don't let this be a vision._

An opening presented itself as Arthur struck, only to have his attack parried as he parried his opponents blade, realising that he had overcommitted himself.

_Please don't be a vision._

Morgana smiled, it had been long since Arthur had met his match. But still she had to be certain, so she whispered her plan to the queen.

_Who's she, and why's she so pal" _Merlin wondered as he looked at Morgana through blurry eyes, unable to recognise her

_Make up? Naaa, only dead people are that pale, so she's got to be dead, then why's she standing? Maybe it's magic, I mean everything else that happens around here is because of magic. What was it called again? Necrophilia, Mecromancy? Tetrodancy? _

_Oh who cares, it's a dream anyway..._

_... or is it?_

Merlin roared with what little strength he had from his weak state, "_Die Necrophilliac_!" as he attempted to attack the witch, only held back by the surprised guards that had been holding him upright for this long.

"No." The queen replied to the witch after noticing the young man's odd condition, yet appearing to pay it no attention.

"Why?" the witch whispered in shock, "why lay to waste such an opportunity?"

"Because I have made an arrangement with the King, and I don't intend to dishonour it by interfering in this contest with your magic's, witch." she replied in a louder tone, hoping to catch the ear of any guards who were listening, indeed if the boy heard, and then if his outburst alerted any of her men to her conversation, the outcome would be bad, especially if word got to Camelot's army of their breaking the rules of engagement regarding outside interference for this fight.

Crash! Went the sound of the King's armour as he was knocked to the ground by a powerful punch from the Ulfric, his sword flying out of his hand during his descent.

Ulfric saw this and smiled, certain in the knowledge that he had won victory for his people and returned the lands that had been stolen from them. He walked up to the King, readying his large sword for the final blow as all who were watching held their breath.

In a flach Arthur rolled, grasped his sword, and with inhuman speed ran it through the giant's stomach.

Ulfric stumbled back in shock. The blade still lodged inside of him. He looked at it, then the prince. Grabbed the blade and ripped it out of his chest, throwing it a distance that the king could not in his wildest dreams hope to reach.

Arthur lay on the ground as the giant kneeled on him, his knee on his chest making him wheeze. The giant put the sword to Arthur's neck and asked with a stern voice, "yield?"

Arthur nodded, accepting this unexpected gift with all his senses as the fear gripped him in a way he had not felt it take him for years, as if whatever shield that had protected him for all his life had fled.

With this Ulfric stood, turned and raised his arm to signal his victory to his men who cheered in joyous uproar, as the Knights of Camelot were silent and grateful that at least their King had not died.

Ulfric walked towards the army of Caerleon. One step, then two, and collapsed.

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><p><strong>First chapter in this story written for Medieval ways, to whom I should say, 'I'm sorry for the amount of time it took, and I hope you like it'. <strong>

**I mean I found it interesting how quickly Queen Annis shifts character, from vengeful widow to forgiving saint in such a short span of time. I thought I'd try and smooth out the transition a little, and show how even the wings of the smallest butterfly can give birth to a hurricane... metaphorically speaking of course. **

**Any reviews will be appreciated, thank you for reading.**


	2. Chapter 2

**The Red Dragon**

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><p>They of the East ride gallant steeds,<br>Their spears are long and brown;  
>Their shields are set with sparkling stones<br>And each knight wears a crown-  
>We fight on foot as our forebears fought,<br>And we drag the rider down.

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><p>In the distance, he spoke "Wake up"<p>

_It spoke from the void "They have taken you north by carriage, they've locked you up like a beast. They wish to kill you."_

It was a man, much more clearly this time "Wake up," he said, "you're shaking." A jolt, "Wake up."

Merlin opened his eyes. His first sight was a wall of white light which effectively blinded him and forced him to shut them again. The world felt distant, the sounds of people talking had become obscured, the feeling of movement underneath him felt far-off. "Are you ok?" the faceless man continued to ask.

_He felt the presence, watching him, poking him, familiar yet foreign. Pushing the barriers of his mind, smelling of ash and fire. Sulphur and blood. "They WILL KILL YOU"_

"Wake up!"

Merlin groaned, trying to push the feeling to the back of his mind, as far as he could put it. He opened his eyes once more; squinting as they adjusted to the light and felt his senses come into focus. He was on a carriage; he felt it wobble as the rough ride jolted him up and down with every movement along the dusty path.

The next thing he saw was a man, dressed in rags, and wrapped in chains. "Are you alright?" the man asked, once he saw Merlin was awake. "You were shaking, must have been a bad dream." He explained, as Merlin took a good look at him, he had a build of a soldier, not a knight as they tended to be too bulky for their own good, but one more fitting a guard. A scar above his right eye suggested that he had seen something akin to battle, and the creases along his face suggested that he had seen many winters.

"What's going on?" Merlin groaned, as he tried to rub the cobwebs out of his eyes.

"You can't remember? They must have hurt you hard, eh?" the Man said as he looked over Merlin for any injuries, of course it was only then that Merlin noticed something odd about his situation.

"We're in a cage!" he shouted in alarm, rushing over to the bars and began rattling them in an attempt to see if they weren't a hallucination.

He was quickly brought away from the edge when a man with a spear hit it against the bars, throwing Merlin back into the middle of the cage, and into the arms of his fellow passenger.

"Whoa there" he said to the boy, pushing him into a sitting position. "Sit down, relax. I overheard them saying we'll stop for a while, hopefully we'll get something to eat, but I doubt they'll be that kind if we irritate them."

So Merlin sat, feeling more lost and helpless and confused than he had ever felt before, mainly because everything he had ever felt before in itself felt like a blur. In his hazy state of mind, he couldn't remember the events that had led him to this place.

"What's your name boy?" the man asked, as Merlin tried to make sense of the situation he had woken up to, recalling faint images of a field with two men dancing, and a dead woman.

"Merlin..." he said, driving his thoughts away from his hazy memories "I think." he mumbled, still feeling slightly disorientated from his harsh awakening.

"Like the bird?" the man asked with a tone of genuine curiosity.

"That's right."

"Nice name, I've always found that men named after birds are superior to all others" he said with a smirk.

"What's your name?" Merlin asked the man as they sat down next to one another, trying to ignore the strange looks that were cast his way from the guards around him.

"I guess you can call me Sparrow." The man replied, "I'm from somewhere called Riverwood, it's not a bad place. There's a river, and it's in the middle of a wood."

"Sounds like my home," Merlin said with a chuckle, "Ealdor, ever heard of it?"

The man smiled, as the cobwebs seemed to slowly lift out of the boys tone, "Can't say I have, I was stationed in Riverwood all my life." He explained.

"Stationed?" Merlin asked curiously, "Were you a knight?"

"No, I've not been honoured to have that lofty a position." He explained to Merlin, taking a pause so that the young boy, in his still blurry state of mind could understand him. "I was a guard, took care of the local Lord since back when he was young. Mind you, I'm the only one left ever since their army passed through. Took me prisoner they did."

"What do you mean?" Merlin asked.

"Well." Sparrow explained, "We were on the border, so when we went to the other side they thought us traitors and all. I'm guessing they'll shove my head on a pike to show what disobeying them will lead to."

"I mean" Merlin asked, not completely understanding what the man was talking about "who are they?" he said pointing to the armoured men in the convoy they were in.

"Wow boy, you must have hit your head pretty hard." Sparrow replied with slight shock. "Army from Caerleon, King kills King, Queen invades to take revenge, their armies meet and the two decide to have a duel of champions which Caerleon wins, taking away half of Camelot's land, and not losing a single soldier."

"I remember something like that." Merlin admitted.

"Really?"

"A little" Merlin said, asking Sparrow, "Where are they taking us, exactly?"

"Somewhere in Caerleon I suspect"

"_They're going to kill you"_

"But I heard the guards talking, "he continued, "They said they'll stop soon to rest the horses and have some food. Hopefully they'll give us something small as well. But until then I say we get some rest, eh?" so the two sat and watched the trees drift by and the sun sink down towards the horizon behind iron bars. It was sunset when the convoy made stopped.

By the time their cage had reached the campsite the men had already started the fires and begun cooking food as Merlin's cage was pulled up to a position near the edge of camp. They opened the door and motioned for him to get off and he complied, his new companion led behind him. The guard took them to a pair of trees towards the edge of camp, tied them up and left them there. The two didn't talk; whatever light-hearted conversation was left inside of them had vanished with the gradual dawning of the reality that they were prisoners who would not be fed. Things never went well for prisoners who weren't fed.

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><p>Arthur paced around the room, wondering what, WHAT he could do now. Half the kingdom was gone, in a night. He had yielded half his kingdom away.<p>

He paced around the throne room in the dimming light lost, alone and without guidance. Wondering, asking the shadows that surrounded him what his next step should be.

The doors clicked, and from the darkness came Aggrivane, and for a moment, just a moment the King was worried. But that was before his trusted uncle put honeyed half truths into his ears and whispered him to a half sleep so that he may no longer remember.

No longer recall how he had faced his foes at every corner, from men and beasts possessing great power, to innocents who possesses none. Because he did want to forget, forget and be taken by the currents of the world, to drift and be lost in its flow. Because he had faced his enemy, he _had_. He had faced his enemy, the King convinced himself, surrounded by nothing but darkness.

He _had _faced his enemy, and lost... everything.

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><p>Merlin's mind was a blur, awash with the reds and greens of the fires and grass in the distance. Accentuated by the thump thump of his heart along with the dryness of his throat and laughter of the soldiers in the distance.<p>

He felt weak, weaker than he had in ages, he called upon his magic, having realised that this was an appropriate time only to have it remain beyond his reach. He tried over and over again to grab a hold of that familiar bright pillar of strength that had always supported him when all other lights had gone out. Only to have it slip away, escape out of his grasp as it had when the Dhrocha came.

He looked around as the drunken laughter of the soldiers rippled through the forest. He heard Sparrow's panicked words from somewhere outside of his line of sight. "C'mon little bird" he said to Merlin in hopes that the boy was listening "we've got to get out of here. The guards are gone now so snap out of whatever's got hold of you, and try to get free."

"Merlin? You there?" he asked once more, yet continued to receive no reply from the boy, "Merlin, listen to me. You're going to die if you stay here. They're going to kill you!"

"_They're going to kill you"_

All of a sudden, as if a spark had jolted him awake Merlin began to struggle against his ropes that bound him. Thrashing as hard as he could to find a way out of his bindings.

He continued as hard as he could, having found within himself an abstract sense of resolution amongst the shards of panic that had been lodged into him.

Eventually however he groaned in frustration from having rubbed his wrists raw, all his hope had escaped as he lay there like a star against the shores at the end of life. He felt broken, he was alive, but without any strength and will, and most importantly of all without magic.

Sparrow, he thought of Sparrow, hoping the man had gotten out. He probably hadn't as he would have helped him in turn to escape their captors clutches. Merlin wanted to talk to him, to ask is he was making any progress, but was just too tired. He lay their against the tree as the wind grew cold and the fires in the distance dimmed, in seconds he felt what could only be described as eons pass him by.

Snap. He heard Sparrow whisper something urgently, as he continued to lay there. "Merlin!" the man whispered, trying to get the boys attention, "You awake, kid?"

"No" Merlin groaned, trying to move his weak and weary limbs.

"Oh thank gods, c'mon, the soldiers are mostly drunk, we've got to get out of here." He said in a rushed but worried voice.

"How'd you get out?" Merlin asked, letting out a groan as he tried to summon his lost strength, his lost conviction, to rekindle the roaring blaze his heart had once harboured.

He was so busy trying to sort out his own state of mind that he didn't notice the people coming behind Sparrow until they were right behind him. He didn't dare breathe until they slammed the hilts of their blades onto the back of the worried man's head. He didn't dare think, the fear he felt for his friend having paralysed him. He felt a pain in the back of his head in the same place his friend had been hit and he wondered what the kind man had done to deserve any of this. Merlin felt guilty for having been the cause of his pain; knowing full well that had he not snuck after Arthur, had he not been clumsy and gotten captured, had he not been so helpless. If it wasn't for him, Sparrow would be free.

Merlin felt rage grip him. The sparks lighting his fingers, the fire flicker in his heart.

What had Sparrow done to deserve this?

They dragged his friend away and he whispered, "No" as the men looked upon the boy with amused faces and continued dragging the limp body away. Merlin tried to move his legs, only to feel their lifelessness from having remained in a stationary position for so long; his hands bound by the tangible, grime covered ropes. _No_ he thought as the light and fury contained in his belly began to blaze with the intensity of the sun.

He would not _die. _NO, he had to o much to live for. A woman, an old man, and a _destiny_. He couldn't for the life of himself remember who they were or what it meant but with all the strength he could muster he called his magic from the darkest depths.

His eyes shone gold, his bindings were cut, and he growled like a feral beast from the dawn of time. Looking in the face of the enemy knight before him he bore his fingers like claws and with a primal strength leapt upon him, thinking of a way to set himself and the Sparrow man free.

More sounds could be heard in the distance, more enemies. He flung himself off of the man and immediately used his head as a battering ram in the next one, flinging his arms and legs like a man possessed when another tried to get close to him.

He fought and pushed and shoved and bit and scratched as much as he could; when the rush of blood and madness that had served to help him had passed him by, he substituted it with pure willpower in the name of his friend. But they never stopped coming, and he was little more than a wild beast when they were able to get close enough to the boy and as they would with a wild beast they made his world a shroud of black, with the parting words amidst the chaos _"The boy has magic, KILL HIM!"_

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><p><strong>Well, it took longer than I would have hoped, the flu stopped me but It's out nonetheless. Mind you the new Merlin wasn't too bad... despite the jarring shift of Morgana's character from Scooby-doo villain to she-Hitler... <strong>

**... and the incest, ugh why BBC, why?**

**So until next time... or until you review... please, please review.**


	3. Chapter 3

**The Red Dragon**

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><p>We race the steed of the Saxon knight<br>Across the naked fen-  
>They of the East are full of pride,<br>Cubs of the Lion's den.  
>They boast they breed a race of kings-<br>But we of the West breed Men.

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><p>It roared "Wake up!" Its echo piercing through the endless cavern that Merlin found himself looking into. It was dark, darker than any shade of black Merlin had ever seen, as if all light into had been swallowed into its depths. "Wake up!" came the voice from the cave once more, as deep and endless and ever mysterious as the darkness that it had come out of. "Your shaking" it continued, as if is words were forged of thunder itself.<p>

Then silence. Merlin was still, looking into the endless dark before him as smells began to come into focus. The smell of soot, deep and heavy, soon becoming more pronounced, more sharply defined. It began to warm up the air around him; he could feel it caress his skin, warming it up, he could feel it snake its way up his nose, igniting him from the inside.

Then he could see it, seeping out of the blackness. Smoke, thick and getting thicker, made up of black and green and grey. Covering the world, covering him and placing him into its snare.

Then from the shadows he saw the red, and closed his eyes. Merlin was scared,_ terrified_. He was shaking much more now, wanting to get away, wanting to be anywhere but here. But no matter how hard he tried to ignore it, it was still there. He closed his eyes, but even then he could smell its scent, feel the heat of its breath and if he would just open his eyes.

NO!

Merlin was quaking in his boots, he didn't dare open his eyes. He didn't dare, he didn't-

"Wake up!"

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><p>Merlin groggily opened his eyes, his body feeling heavy, heavier than he recalled it having ever felt, forgetting his most recent dream and looking around. He was bound to the ground tightly, inside of a cage. Merlin looked at his iron bars in frustration, realising he was trapped... again, like some bird. He made a resolution to ask his mother why she chose such a name, when he made it back home. After all these people knew he had magic, what did he really have left to lose?<p>

Oh... wait. The bars, Merlin noticed that they were etched with markings. Markings that he had seen before when he had been arrested under suspicion of sorcery in Camelot. Because there had to be a way for Uther to keep those with magic under check, and one of the most effective ways to do that was to use a diluted form of magic, 'runes' to gain a certain reaction. Because when the bars spoke 'silence' people had to listen and remain as such. Merlin was powerful, and like all powerful people and so could manage to whisper a little, not enough to make a spell but enough to speak normally without straining himself.

"You awake boy?" came a gruff voice from his side. Merlin turned his head to catch a glance of the speaker, seeing a large man with a spear. Merlin deduced that this man was sent to poke him to death.

"So" the man continued to talk despite no prompt from the boy, "a sorcerer is the servant of Uthers boy." He chuckled deeply, "You got a pair off balls boy, size of acorns. Comin' from me that's a compliment"

Merlin groaned having heard this tone from too many weary knights during his time as a servant that wasn't in prison. From people bored enough to strike a conversation with someone of lower status than them, yet arrogant enough to look their noses whilst doing so.

"Remember what happened yesterday?" the man asked after noticing how unimpressed the boy was. "How I defeated your master? Hmmm?" the man continued, immune to the look of exasperation Merlin wore on his face.

"But then again, I bet he wasn't really your master. You being a magic man in Camelot, I'd bet you were there to assassinate him. Bloody incompetent if that were the case I tell you." He continued, seemingly forgetting his comment on the size of Merlin's anatomy seconds before.

"Or you were an assassin who fell in love." Merlin threw up a little inside of his mouth as the man began to make up a story of his undying affection for the King. After preventing himself from _actually _being sick Merlin found himself properly awake, and astounded/disgusted at the man's creativity. Astounded at his use of words that had more than three syllables, and disgusted at his... innovative ideas regarding the use of chains and other torture equipment.

The man didn't seem capable of stopping, irritating Merlin more and more as he began to wonder if he should beg the man to shut up. But restraining himself as any whisper would show his capabilities as a powerful warlock to Sir Big Mouth, and make an already difficult escape nigh on impossible. So, drawing from his endless well of ingenuity Merlin pretended to fall asleep, hoping that the ballads of undying affection between master and servant would cease.

Needless to say, the man didn't shut up.

"Of course if it's not the case that you want a little bit of _man_ love, there _must_ be a reason, a good reason why you're there." He asked deviating from his stories for once. "Not that it matters really. After what I did yesterday your beloved Camelot's little more than worthless." He said, prompting Merlin to wonder what exactly this man did to Camelot.

"You don't remember?" the man said, picking up the perplexed look Merlin had on his face, "They must have beaten you up pretty good boy." He smirked, "or, you can't bear to remember your lover boys humiliating defeat on the field of battle!"

Then Merlin remembered something: a field, a lady, and two men dancing. He looked to his guard and remembered the face of the man in blue. _He _was dancing. No wait, that's not right... _Fighting_.

Fighting with the man in red... Arthur. They were dancing, no, fighting for the fate of Camelot.

Camelot lost.

"Crap" Merlin groaned, gathering the attention of the man.

"My name is Ulfric." He said in a calm tone, "Who would you be magician?"

Merlin looked at the man, and called his strength to whisper "Merlin." Only realising his mistake when he saw the smirk appear on his captors face.

"Merlin then." He replied in a cool even tone, never taking his eyes off of his target "a young yet powerful magic user. In service to the King of Camelot, humble, because you must be in your position; yet devious enough to use lies to your advantage." He said to himself, "Don't be shocked boy, I didn't become a champion on my strength alone." He replied to the shock in Merlin's eyes.

Merlin groaned, realising the position that he had put himself into, and that the man watching him was more than the standard soldier he appeared to be.

"Now boy," Ulfric asked, "would you mind telling me, for the sake of my own curiosity of course. What are you doing as the servant of Arthur?"

Merlin didn't say anything, "Now boy, I'm a champion. I have my honour at stake, so look. I give you my word that I won't say a thing. Because _you_ are a fine little riddle."

Merlin looked at the man, taking in his every detail before asking him, "If you're a champion" he whispered, "Why are you guarding me?"

The only response Merlin received was that of the spear tip poking into his arm. Hard enough to draw blood, but not to do any serious damage.

"Still" the man continued, "the... reaction when your King finds out your dirty little secret." He saw Merlin stiffen as the Warlock felt everything that he had worked to help achieve begin to creak under the weight of reality "will be interesting".

"I wonder what the rest of Camelot will think? I doubt the humiliation will go well." He continued, looking for some confirmation to his suspicions. The man's battle instincts allowing him to notice slight movements in the boy's body.

"Look boy, let me make you a deal. If you give me a hint as to why you have served a man who would have hunted you down had he known what you are. I'll try my best to keep your magic a secret." He explained "The Queen's already told the witnesses to hold their tongues or have them cut out, but it's difficult to keep something like this silent forever." He looked at the boy with a look that showed how serious he was, "I don't know what you see honour as, after all witnessing _honourable_ knights killin' magical children over and over again would leave a bitter taste in yer mouth. But this is me, promising on my honour that I'll try to keep your secret safe if you tell me why." Silence followed.

Merlin instantly made a resolution not to say anything, especially as he had no guarantee from this man other than his word that he would aid him in any way. After all he was trapped in a cage, bound and sealed by silencing runes. A trapped beast awaiting execution, a boy who will die shunned by those who had harmed all that he had hoped to build, unmourned by those he considered as friends, but branded a traitor and disgrace by them. No. Merlin thought to himself silencing the words of dissent in his own mind, aiming instead to look towards better thoughts as Ulfric continued to stare him down.

Sparrow, the only man that remotely resembled an ally in this forsaken place. Merlin wondered if he had seen him do magic, and the soldiers attempts at subduing him. Would Sparrow judge him as harshly as everyone else?

Ulfric continued to look at the boy.

Sparrow was probably dead. After all there was no use for a troublesome prisoner. Merlin figured that the only reason he was alive was due to his value as the Warlock servant of Camelot. A passing curiosity like an oddly coloured bird, caged, locked up and looked at from time to time at a safe distance like any other shiny bauble till he lost the interest of his keepers.

"Listen boy." Ulfric said, pausing for a moment, softening his voice "listen, Merlin, what's the worst that could happen?"

So Merlin asked himself _what_ was the worst that could happen? If he was going to die all that he had worked for would be for nothing, and if he managed to escape whatever trust he had in Camelot would have disappeared long before he would have manage to arrive at the castle gates.

_Don't say a thing_ his instincts murmured. Instincts that had been forged after a lifetime of hiding, after a lifetime of fleeing from the gaze of others.

"Destiny" Merlin whispered, pushed by a force propelled from the darkest reaches of his mind. "Destiny" he whispered once more. This time of his own choice, feeling an invisible weight he had bared all of his life dissolve into dust. _Destiny_ the word echoed throughout his body, not leaving a single inch of him untouched.

"Destiny?" Ulfric echoed sceptically, unnoticed by Merlin who was caught in between shock at how easily he let go of his secret and utter relief that the chains of the future has loosened their grip on him.

"Boy, you got to have a better reason than that. I mean, what? Did some virgin maid jump out of a lake and crown you servant?" Ulfric let out a sigh, wondering if he was talking to a lunatic.

The look on the boys face however suggested that there was no deception. "You're serious" he said with a weary sigh, the thought saddening him more than any lie could have.

"So" Ulfric began, "You've been serving for years because someone told you that it would be good? That it was as your fate? I'm guessing your destiny _was_ good or you wouldn't have done it.

The man sighed, knowing that Merlin hadn't moved an inch, that the young boy had remained fixated upon his words. "Let me tell you something" He began, "I'm old, finished." He sighed, not knowing why he had begun to open himself up to a servant of Camelot as opposed to one of his fellow men, scoffing at himself when he realised that the reason that he had begun to open up was because this boy wasn't one of his men.

"I've reached my peak, and after that fight... things can only get worse from here. I know how it works, when a soldier or knight or servant gains too much attention or affection from the people they're put onto the backburner, otherwise there might be a rebellion. That's what it's like for powerful people, someone's always ready to take that power away. It's why I'm here, you're just dangerous and unimportant enough for me to guard. Eventually the jobs they hand me will get less and less important and I'll end my days in some far off backwater village."

"But the way I see it, if I'm gonna do any good it'll be by teaching you something for if you escape. Which is likely considering that you can overcome that magic in that cage." He paused to check that Merlin was listening, then continued when he realised that he was, "someday you're going to end up in a place like I'm in now, when things look like they can only go downhill (assuming you don't kill yourself first). Right you you're at a point where you think you're invincible, but let me tell you every action you take lasts."

Ulfric sighed, "I'm not making much sense, am I?" then resolved to tackle the explanation from another angle, "_You_ fight for destiny, hoping that the words of your prophet, or oracle or whoever read the messages of the gods is right. But I've seen lots. I've seen people fight for all sorts of ridiculous things... ideas and dreams that they might not even live to see, and to get there they turn the blind eye when something bad happens, sometimes they do something bad, to make their dream come a little closer. Because what's a little bit of bad compared to a lot of good?"

He sighed, feeling tired and worn and weary, "I've seen too much destiny in the eyes of too many murderers. You're young, it'd be a shame to see you turn into a monster."

He got up, noticing another pair of guards arriving to relieve him of his shift, "If it's destiny that something's going to happen, it's going to happen. Like it or not." The soldier dusted himself off, "Your actions are yours, and when you reach the point of life when all you can do is, _remember_. Whatever bad you do to others in the name of the greater good, or the name of your Kings or Lords or Gods. In the end, your actions are yours alone."

The others approached, prompting Ulfric to end his speech. Merlin heard them mutter something about how the caravan was to begin moving again, to where he didn't know, but with the man's words echoing through his head he didn't really care.

* * *

><p>"Rise soldier" Queen Annis commanded Ulfric who obeyed her orders obediently, "Do you have anything of note to say about the sorcerer?"<p>

"Yes your highness." He replied "The boy has managed to overcome the silencing runes" he admitted to his Queens surprise.

"He has?" she said, "Well, then he is a potential danger, what course of action would you advise, Champion?"

"My Queen, he could be helpful."

"Helpful?"

"If he could fight for us, he may prove to be a worthy asset."

"He could." She admitted, preparing to entertain the proposal that she knew that he was going to make.

"I suggest that we keep the guards to a minimum level, at least those that are visible." He said to Queen Annis's delight. His place as her Champion was earned due to his tactical mind as much as his brute strength. "I also suggest that we silence anyone who may tell of his talents your highness. Not to go as far as murder, but most else in our arsenal."

"Why?"

"The boy seems to value secrecy."

"Ahh." She murmured, appearing to think on his words, "Thank you Champion, I will take what you have said into consideration, for now you must prepare to travel, you have helped us in this battle greatly, and we will have reached home by nightfall and there you will be allowed to rest. After that, I believe a reward is due for you, hero of Caerleon. Something befitting your deeds. A placement somewhere peaceful perhaps?" she said, confirming the man's fears.

"Whatever reward you deem fit will be reward enough your majesty." He replied firmly, taking his leave as the caravan moved deeper into their homelands.

Merlin fell asleep as the sky turned red, hearing the words whisper, _"They're going to KILL you"_ before the shadows took him completely into their embrace.

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><p><strong>Some filler to try to balance out and prepare for the events of the next chapter, because all that's happened so far has pretty much been a sort of prologue. I'll have less dialogue there, more action. <strong>

**Still I hope you liked Ulfric, I've tried to model him as a mix of both Tiberius from Kingdom of Heaven and Ulfric Stormcloak from Skyrim. His switch from antagonist to helpful aid seemed a little bit jarring to me, but then again he's a (Fictional) man like all others and has a story like all others prior to meeting Merlin. I've also tried to make Annis a little more... cunning, but not to Morgana levels of insanity, hope I succeeded.**

**Will you see more of him? Depends if I feel like killing him off :P**

**But I hope you enjoyed this nonetheless, and that you can take the time to review. Until next time.**


	4. Chapter 4

**The Red Dragon**

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><p>"It is the Hour of Wakening.<p>

He comes forth in his glory,

and his people shall rejoice,

and his enemies shall scatter like dust."

- Dreamer

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><p>He waited for the guards to appear to investigate the sound "Blessed are the Dragonlords" he repeated as the clunk clunk clunk of armour grew louder, "for they serve without self," he pictured the stone in his mind's eye, feeling his spirit connect with itself. "sacrificed on the altar of faith and blood."<p>

The guards looked over the edge, two became one, and in an instant he appeared behind them and pushed them over. They were so surprised that it was amusing. So surprised, they couldn't even suck in the air to scream.

* * *

><p>Aggrivane was not a happy man. Everything had been wasted, everything, and for what? So that the witch could spite her families legacy. Gods!<p>

What was the point of it anymore? The Kingdom of Camelot was sundered; land that they paid with blood to protect and acquire had been thrown away in an instant. Now all that was left was a castle with dwindling food supplies from the loss of farmland and mounting debts from the loss of tax revenues. Then the army, the army had begun to dwindle. None of the oh so noble knights of Camelot had seen fit to desert, but the lesser soldiers were more than eager to reach home once they realised that their homes were on the other side of the border, or once they saw how the Kingdom had crumbled after the humiliating loss that was inflicted on them.

What was worse was that the witch was rejoicing at Camelot's suffering! Aggrivane admitted to himself that there may have been a time when he had been taken in by the act of the seductress, but after this display of stupidity he was more than happy to bypass her 'authority'.

He would use his position to persuade Arthur to retake Camelot's lands, and retake them as soon as possible. Because if Morgana had her way Camelot would be reduced to the size of her hovel, and she would be Queen of the rats that inhabit it.

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><p>The first thing Merlin could hear was the sound of drums. "Get moving scum!" shouted the guards as he was taken through an endless maze of twisting hallways. His travels always marked by the beat of the drums, beating a low beat through the walls', shaking the very floor beneath him.<p>

* * *

><p>"Your highness." Ulfric said whilst kneeling in front of his Queen. "You have asked for my presence?"<p>

Annis looked down on her champion, amused beyond words at her plan, "Yes, my _loyal_ champion"

* * *

><p>They would throw him, push him, drag him ever onwards. The worst of it all was that they had also gagged his mouth tightly shut, and added extra guards to escort him. He couldn't do anything to get out. But his insides were screaming for him to run, every nerve and sense quivering in fear. He had to, he <em>had<em> to get out of here and to Camelot, or Ealdor. Somewhere, somewhere that he would be safe. But he couldn't use his magic, he couldn't shout an incantation. He couldn't do anything to get out.

The ropes that bound his hands behind his back felt as if they had rubbed his wrists raw. He tried to reach his magic, to feel it swirling around him. But was quickly stopped by a harsh push from the guards escorting him. Slowly but surely, any hope that he would live to see tomorrow fled.

* * *

><p>"I think that you, for your contribution in our victory against Camelot deserve a place of honour. Something to be given to you as a reward in recognition of your deeds." There was silence from all present as the Queen continued, "I have taken your suggestions into account and have decided that whilst the boy could prove to be a powerful asset, it is far too much of a risk to keep him alive."<p>

He could hear the beat of his own heart hammer in his chest.

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><p>The drumming in the distance became faster, beating, pulsing until it was an unintelligible roar, a roar deafening Merlin to all other sounds around him, the insults of the men escorting him, and the sharp screech of the doors as he was taken outside.<p>

* * *

><p>"The boy shall be beheaded in front of all the assorted nobles who have come to celebrate <em>our<em> victory, and the return of glory to our kingdom"

* * *

><p>Then, as he was paraded through the streets, the Warlockservant of Camelot, listening to the jeers and insults thrown at him like rotten vegetables it became clear. There was no drumbeat, only the roar of the people that surrounded him. Begging for his blood, for his death. He listened to them whilst being, pushed, prodded, and beaten down; all he could hear was their screams, all their voices becoming one. Because from this distance they all looked the same, and the only words he could make out in the endless din was the words, "_Death_" the endless chant of, "Death, death, death."

"Kill the boy, kill him!" one woman screamed whilst attempting to get to the boy and kill him herself. He was back in Camelot witnessing a boy burnt alive whilst his mother wept; he was on the battlements as Kilgarrah laid waste to the city underneath. He was in front of a dark cave where the beast made of fire and smoke dwelled. They all screamed, "_Death_".

Merlin had to get out, he had to get out and get away. No more time to worry about the risks, no more time to worry about destiny. If he was going to die, none of that would matter. So he silenced the voice of the crowd, he gathered every tendril of magic that he felt inside of him, every shred of strength. Looked forwards, and at seeing what lay before him, felt the magic slip away from his fingers.

* * *

><p>"In honour of your service," Annis began, her words loud and clear so that all those assembled in her throne room could hear "you, my champion shall have the honour of executing the sorcerer."<p>

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><p>Ulfric stood on top of a raised platform, an axe held firmly in one of his hands; besides him with her head held high was a woman who he recognised as Queen Annis. In front of them both, kneeling with his head on a chopping block was Sparrow.<p>

Merlin felt himself go numb as he was pushed upon the platform and shoved down to his knees in front of the Queen who didn't dare give him a second glance.

The roars became distant as he tried to look Ulfric in the eyes, to try and ask him 'why' even though his mouth was bound and he could not speak.

He looked at Sparrow, the man had his head on the block but looked at Merlin with a bitter smile. He knew that the crowd was roaring, and that the Queen behind him had begun to make a speech, but the last words spoken by Sparrow were as clear as if they hadn't been speaking at all.

* * *

><p>"Ulfric, champion of Caerleon, do you accept this great honour?" Queen Annis asked, knowing full well what the man's answer would be.<p>

"Yes." He said, the remains of his soul screeching out in protest at the thought of killing a boy, regardless of how powerful he was, "I accept this honour you have given me, your highness."

* * *

><p>"Merlin" Sparrow said as Ulfric moved behind him and the crowd hushed to silence, the smile still plastered onto his face "Don't forget who you are."<p>

Chop, the axe fell, and the crowd roared and clapped joyously as his head fell and rolled to the ground. Ulfric held the bloody axe high in the face of the nobles as Merlin froze in disbelief.

It wasn't the first time he had seen death, but to see the life of someone who he had talked to extinguished so easily, so instantaneously sent a chill up the Warlock's spine.

A guard kicked Sparrows motionless body to the side and walked behind Merlin, dragging him up to his feet, moving him past Queen Annis who was telling another guard to disturb her at some other time.

Merlin looked into Ulfric's eyes for a moment before Ulfric looked away in shame. All of a sudden Merlin had felt as if the world had begun to blur. The voices of the crowd dimming down, as he was roughly forced to kneel in front of the chopping block.

He could hear horns in the distance and asked himself if this was the end?

A hand forcefully pushed him down. His face hit the wood. His nose was filled with the smell of his friend's blood.

He closed his eyes, prepared for what was going to happen. Felt warmth fill him as he steeled himself for the sharp pain of the axe on his neck. Thinking not of what others would do now that he was gone, but rather if he would meet Freya, his father or Will when he died.

He closed his eyes in preparation.

Silence was all he could hear. It slowly became a distant screech, growing in intensity louder and louder.

Bang. The sound roared, wiping away all else.

He was dead.

His world was empty, nothing.

Silence.

Then he heard a voice in the distance shout, "Merlin!"

"Get up Merlin" said the voice. It sounded like Sparrow.

Merlin felt strange, weightless, _sad_. Free and unrestrained by the shackles of destiny, yet bound by the chains of disappointment and failure. He felt warm, as if caught in a fire storm yet... cold.

"Merlin, we need your help" sounded Sparrows voice as the heat around him began to increase. "Merlin" Sparrows voice called out once more, sounding slightly distorted, "Open your eyes!"

Fire

Life

_Breathe_

Merlin saw his head still on the chopping block. He was still alive!

Why? He asked himself, looking around to see the town was burning, the people running scared in every direction, the soldiers trying to form some sort of coherent defence from some enemy somewhere.

Chaos.

Yet... everything was silent, he couldn't hear a thing, as if he was watching this scene of madness through the eyes of another.

"Merlin" Sparrow said. Wait... not Sparrow Merlin realised as someone else came up to Merlin and forced him up.

"You alright boy?" It was Ulfric, "We got to get out of here, I need your help." He said systematically destroying the chains and ropes that kept Merlin bound, and finally releasing the gag that kept the boys mouth shut.

Suddenly the sound of screams washed over him, the feel of the flames became more intense, the crackle of the flames and the taste of smoke. Then, a loud screech pierced his hearing as boulders flew down from the sky, crashing into houses and squashing soldiers and peasants alike.

"Merlin!" Ulfric shouted to the frozen boy who was watching this scene of horror, a slaughter on the scale of which he had not seen before. A slaughter that a part of Merlin's mind said was rightfully deserved.

"Merlin!" Ulfric roared, shaking the boy out of his trance, "If we stay, we're going to die!"

"_They're going to kill you"_

Merlin nodded to the older man. He understood that he had to get out of here or share the same fate of all those who had already perished in the carnage.

"Follow me."Ulfric shouted as he began to make his way out of the city. Stopping and turning when he noticed Merlin hadn't followed.

Because Merlin had looked down to see Sparrows headless body. He remembered that Ulfric had killed the soldier without hesitation, and would have killed him as well. _But he saved me_ screamed another part of his mind. He was frozen, stuck between two impossible decisions.

He looked to see Sparrows head in the dirt, his eyes open and lifeless. "Don't forget who you are." They said, and Merlin wondered just who he was as he looked into Ulfric's pleading gaze, begging the boy... the warlock to follow him.

Who am I? Merlin's eyes asked Ulfric. A murderer? someone who will bring justice to my friend. A coward who will follow you like a servant? Merlin asked himself, realising that he had been doing this for Arthur for a good part of his life.

Then he heard the sound of horns bellow in the distance, punctuated by the sound of screaming men rush closer like the approaching tide. Then the screech of metal against metal, the swearing, curses and groans of fighting men.

Merlin looked at Ulfric in the eyes, and ran, knowing that he had to get out of here, knowing who he was wouldn't help much if he was dead.

* * *

><p><strong>YAY! I didn't start with a dream sequence. :D<strong>

**Hands up how many of you thought Merlin died? All in all I quite enjoyed this chapter (mostly), bar a couple of irritating blocks, it seemed to flow (generally). If you agree leave it in your review (hint, hint)**

**If I get them I might even promise to stop the self depreciating comments. :P**


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